


Picking Up Pieces

by Stealth_Noodle



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Female Friendship, Gen, Post-Canon, Triple Drabble, Wordcount: 100-500, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 11:26:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stealth_Noodle/pseuds/Stealth_Noodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They both bring cities back to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picking Up Pieces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raphiael](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raphiael/gifts).



> Prompt: _Terra, Celes, finding common ground in the ruins, learning what defines them each in a world left without magic or empire. Gen or paired are both okay; I'd just love to see a piece focusing on how they each handle life after FFVI, together or apart._

They both bring cities back to life: Terra for love, and Celes for redemption. 

Maranda was beautiful once, before she burned it. Though she would like to believe that the worst of the damage came when the world cracked apart, Celes can still see the scorch marks under the paint, still smell the smoke lingering on the bricks. She used fire to distance herself; the chill beneath her skin shielded her.

Now her blood flows as warm as anyone's, and her hand doesn't crackle when she flexes it. She has a hammer and a general's voice. She sets to work.

* * *

Sometimes Terra dreams that she never opened the gate. Her esper ears twitch, and she catches Kefka following; they battle furiously until Celes drives her sword through him and Terra burns his body to ashes around it. In her dream, Celes is always there. The war ends, and neither the world nor Terra is ever torn in half.

When she wakes, she carries the dream with her for hours. It's hard to watch the children without seeing the ghosts of their parents.

Love is a muddled emotion, all mixed up with guilt and duty and feelings she still can't name.

* * *

"It's amazing what you've done," Terra says when she visits. "I scarcely recognize it."

"Don't say that too loudly," Celes replies dryly. "We've spent months restoring those buildings." She knows the story of each, the memories that transformed the ramshackle into the sacred. Tearing down and replacing would be simpler, but violence has always been simpler for her. Rebuilding is messy work, and she never knows exactly what to feel.

"How is Mobliz?" she asks, and Terra falls quiet for a moment before replying, "We're getting better."

They both bring cities back to life, and all their reasons are muddled.


End file.
